3 White Russian
by ASlaveToWords
Summary: When Oliver and Miguel put ther pasts behind them, they finally realize that they're in the same boat. Can they help each other? And more importantly, will this finally be their last Christmas alone? - #3, and final one, in the "Drinks" series.


**A/N:** FINALLY!! Here's the last (and I'm _thinking,_ for now, the _final)_ story in the drink series! I know it took me like. . . MONTHS to actually finish and post, but, well, here you go. Can't promise it's worth the wait, per-say, but I do hope you like it anyway. Happy reading!

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I STILL do NOT own Beyblade or any of the characters. . . don't worry though, I'm workin on it!|

* * *

"White Russian, please."

"Sure thing sweetie."

Miguel looked away from the bartender as she went to fetch him his drink. He liked that drink because it always reminded him of Kai.

Kai.

Miguel's teeth clenched as he thought about the blunette leaving the party with the blonde, European playboy.

"Damn that bastard. . ." He growled to himself, not entirely sure which teen he was cursing.

"Here you go love, one White Russian."

Miguel looked up at Kay, the bartender, as she laid his drink in front of him. He forced a return smile and gave her money to pay.

"Thank you." He said politely, laying down the change she'd given him back as a tip.

Swirling his straw around in his glass, Miguel resisted taking a sip. It looked so perfect, so flawless, so beautiful, so. . . untouched. . . just like Kai.

At this thought, Miguel remembered, once again, the blunette leaving the room with the blonde and angrily stabbed his straw deeper into the glass.

_"Well he's not untouched anymore!"_ He thought a little angrily, though he had to hide his jealously and hurt from himself as much as the rest of the world.

"Jack Daniels on the rocks, please."

Miguel was shaken out of his thoughts by this familiar voice and couldn't help but look up curiously to see who it belonged to.

"I'm sorry, we don't have any more Jack." Kay replied kindly. "I'll run out back real quick and get some more."

Her customer smiled at her kindly.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

Now sitting beside Miguel was a familiar green-haired European. Enrique knew this teen, he was on the playboy's team. But this boy was much different from the blonde. He was sweet, intelligent and adorable. But he was also a force to be reckoned with and not someone you wanted to underestimate. While Oliver Polanski was one of the best people you'd ever come across, he was also very powerful and deserved all the respect he got.

Miguel smiled playfully at the petite teen, whom was looking around absently as he waited for his drink.

"That's not a drink I'd expect someone like you to order."

Oliver turned to Miguel with a smile and opened his mouth to speak, but as soon as he recognized the other blader, he immediately turned away from the white-blonde teen with a sour look.

"It's not for me." He said flatly. "It's for Robert. He need's to relax."

Miguel starred at Oliver for a moment, noting the almost robotic tone in the younger boy's voice, almost as if he was forced by some lesson long-learned to reply; even if it was just to be polite.

At that moment, the bartender returned and rapidly poured Oliver the drink before placing it before him with a smile.

"There you go hun."

Oliver's charming smile returned.

"Merci, mademoiselle. I'd also like a champagne if you please."

Kay gave the small teen a slightly odd look.

"Um. . . I'll have to run out back and get that too." She replied a little wearily. "We. . . don't really have many people order that sort of thing."

Oliver gave her a slightly sheepish smile.

"I'm terribly sorry, I don't mean to be a bother."

Kay laughed.

"It's not bother." She replied in amusement. "Keeps me on my toes."

Oliver smiled apologetically again as Kay turned and disappeared a second time.

Again Oliver waited, and again Miguel found himself unable to resist commenting on Oliver's drink.

"Now that's more like it. Someone of your size and background, should order a drink more fitting to you."

Oliver's beautiful face screwed up then in a mix of anger and, from the small blush that quickly formed on his cheeks, embarrassment.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" He demanded angrily.

Miguel smiled.

"Nothing." He replied. "Just that, I've never seen a Frenchmen actually be able to really hold his own before."

Oliver's teeth clenched angrily just as Kay returned and reached for a wine glass to pour his drink. She paused however when Oliver lifted his hand to her.

"One moment, mademoiselle." Oliver said, looking a little flustered. "Again, I'm terribly sorry to be a bother, but I'd like to change my order please."

Kay looked at Miguel with a slightly weary look, somehow sensing that this was his fault, before looking back at Oliver with another weary smile as she laid the glass and bottle down.

"What'll it be darlin'?"

"Mai-Tai, please."

Kay's smile returned at this.

"Nice choice." She replied, turning to mix the drink.

Oliver looked back at Miguel with a slightly smug look and Miguel couldn't help but laugh.

"Better." He replied, looking greatly amused.

Oliver gritted his teeth again as Kay turned back to him in record time with the slightly complicated drink.

"There ya go, hun."

Oliver snorted indignantly at Miguel and turned to Kay with yet another charming smile, though this one looked much more forced.

"Again, merci beaucoup. Keep the change."

Kay looked a little surprised as she looked down at the rather large sum Oliver had left for a tip.

"Thank you." She replied gratefully. Oliver smiled a little sheepishly.

"For all your trouble." He replied kindly.

Kay gave him a warm look.

"It was no trouble." She said kindly before turning to serve someone else.

Oliver smiled at the bartender and picked up the drinks, turning to leave, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

Deep amethyst eyes looked down at the hand on his wrist, then looked up at it's owner with a mixed look of weariness and curiosity.

Miguel pulled away from Oliver and mumbled a quick apology.

"I was. . just going to ask you to stay." He said a little awkwardly.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Why should I?" He said indignantly, but there was a large hint of curiosity in his face this time. "So you can make fun of me some more? No thank you, monsieur."

Miguel frowned and sighed.

"No." He said softly. "I'm sorry Oliver, I really am. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I was just teasing. Please, why don't you sit and talk for a while?"

Oliver studied Miguel for a few moments, obviously considering this. Eventually he lifted his nose in the air and spoke.

"I've got to find Robert to give him his drink." He said importantly. "But, perhaps I'll come back afterward . . . if I feel it's a good idea."

Miguel watched as Oliver turned and disappeared into the crowd. He turned back to the bar again and sipped his drink as his thoughts wandered back to the past their teams shared. With a snort of disapproval on his own behalf, Miguel frowned. Oliver wouldn't be coming back that night, and the blonde didn't blame him.

Soon enough, someone sat next to Miguel again and, turning to see who, the blonde was surprised to see Oliver once more sitting there.

"I guess you decided coming back was a good idea?" Miguel asked, though this time it was purely kind and held no hint of teasing.

"Not necessarily." Oliver replied. "But it wasn't exactly a bad one either."

Both teens looked at each other for a moment and eventually they both broke out into smiles and chuckled.

Turning away to sip their own drinks, there was a nice silence between the two. Eventually however, Miguel spoke again, this time not looking at his companion.

"I'm sorry for the way my team treated yours in the past Oliver." He said quietly. "It was nothing personal, and . . . well, it's complicated, though I know that doesn't excuse it or make it all right."

Oliver turned to Miguel and blinked at him in slight surprise. He simply starred for quite some time until eventually the faintest of smiles lit his face and he spoke.

"No, your right, it doesn't excuse you." He said almost playfully. "But, it is Christmas, so I suppose I could find it in my cold, petite, heart to forgive you."

Miguel looked at Oliver with an amused smile. Those two words most certainly did not describe Oliver Polanski's heart, but the fact that he'd said it made it all the more amusing.

"Right." Miguel said simply, giving a small laugh. "Well, thank you Oliver."

Oliver nodded and turned back to his drink with a smile.

Seeing as they were both nearly finished, Miguel flagged down another bartender and ordered another drink.

"Champagne. Please."

Oliver turned to Miguel with a teasing smile as the bartender turned to fetch his request.

"Champagne?" He repeated teasingly. "Are you sure you can handle something so strong Miguel? Weren't you just teasing me a short while ago for ordering it?"

Miguel picked up the drink as it was placed in front of him and turned to Oliver.

"It's not for me." He said simply, holding it out to the small teen. "It's for you."

Oliver starred at Miguel in slight surprise as he accepted the elegant glass and watched Miguel order his usual drink for himself.

When Miguel had paid for the drinks and lifted his own to his lips for a sip, Oliver blinked at him, finally got over his shock and gave his companion a warm smile.

"You didn't have to do that." He said softly, making Miguel turn to him and smile.

"No, I didn't. But I wanted to."

Oliver smiled, thinking the simple gesture very sweet.

"Thank you." He replied kindly. Miguel simply nodded at him and turned back to his drink.

After chatting and getting to know each other a bit, Miguel finally decided to ask the question that had been on his mind since Oliver had ordered his first drink, with him at least.

"So, why do you think Robert needed to relax?"

Oliver sighed.

"Because he's way too stressed." He replied wearily, as if he'd been through the same argument with the person in question before.

Miguel smirked.

"Why? Cause Johnny isn't with him?" He teased playfully. Surprisingly, Oliver chuckled at this.

"No. Actually, neither of those two are gay. Although, while it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination as far as Robert is concerned; I, personally, can't see Johnny being gay."

Miguel laughed lightly.

"No, I suppose I can't either." He then frowned. "Your team certainly is made up of all kinds, Oliver."

Oliver looked back at Miguel with a confused expression.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously. Miguel's frown deepened.

"Well, you've got one who's almost metrosexual, two straights and one indecisive whore."

Oliver looked down and absently swirled his drink around as he sat quietly. Noticing this, Miguel looked at him and sighed.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I know you're good friends with . . him."

"No, it's OK." Oliver replied just as softly. "It's. . . not that."

Oliver bit the side of his cheek for a moment and Miguel watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.

"You're right though, our team is made up of all kinds; one metrosexual, one straight, one. . . who is quite obviously indecisive, and . . . well. . . I'm not straight."

Oliver's voice lowered considerably after this confession.

"And. . . Enrique is. . . more then a friend to me. . ."

Miguel starred at Oliver for a moment, feeling quite guilty about the whole thing. That is, until a thought came to him and his face contorted angrily.

"You mean to tell me that that blonde playboy went off with Kai, even though he's with you?!"

Oliver's frown deepened and he shook his head.

"No. . " He said quietly. "We're not together. . . in fact. . . I'm quite sure he doesn't even know how I feel about him. Otherwise, I'm sure things would have. . . been different."

Miguel sighed and frowned deeply himself.

"I'm not so sure. That little-"

He bit his tongue as he considered the small teen beside him.

"Sorry. . ." He mumbled again.

Oliver looked at him again and observed him carefully.

"Why do you hate him so much anyway?"

Miguel's face contorted angrily but he said nothing. Oliver tilted his head to one side as he looked Miguel over; his tense body, his straight face. Then his eyes fell on Miguel's glass.

White Russian.

At that point, something in Oliver's head just clicked and he realized immediately just what Miguel didn't want to admit.

"Kai." He said softly. "You like Kai don't you?"

When Miguel didn't respond, Oliver continued, his voice as soft and gentle as he could manage.

"You like him and you hated that he went off with Enrique. That's why you're so angry. . . and hurt."

Oliver looked down and noted how Miguel's free hand clenched into a tight fist while the one around his drink tightened dangerously around the glass, so much so the green-haired teen was surprised it didn't break.

Reaching out to place a hand over Miguel's tight fist, he gave the taller teen a warm smile.

"Looks like we're in the same boat." He said gently.

Miguel finally relaxed and looked back at him, a warm glow in his eyes as he starred back at Oliver, grateful to have a companion and more grateful to Oliver for not rubbing salt in his already stinging wounds.

"Looks like it." Miguel said quietly.

After much talking, and a little laughing, both teens realized they were nearly out of drinks -- again.

"How about another?" Miguel asked with a grin. Oliver laughed and hoisted his drink in the air.

"Yes! Another!"

So, the two ordered more drinks and after those were finally finished, the two looked at each other, a small silence passing between them for the first time in what felt like hours.

"So. . . what's there to down around here?" Miguel asked a little awkwardly. Oliver shrugged.

"I don't know. . I haven't really done much exploring."

Miguel looked down at his, once again nearly empty drink and lifted it to his lips to drain it.

"Well, how about we go find something to do?" He suggested.

Oliver nodded and attempted to do the same with his drink, but it proved to be a little more difficult for him and resulted in a fit of coughing and sputtering. Miguel grinned and gave him a good pat on the back. When Oliver finally stopped coughing he looked at Miguel with a slightly embarrassed look and smiled.

"Thank you. . . yes, lets go look for something to do."

* * *

"Hey, this looks interesting!"

Oliver watched curiously as Miguel slipped through a doorway somewhere deep in the upstairs of the mansion. Walking over to the door, Oliver pushed it open all the way and looked around with interest. Had he not been who he was, Oliver was sure the grand room, jam-packed with games and entertainment of all kinds, would have amazed him greatly.

_"It's about the same size as the one in our house back in Paris."_ Oliver thought to himself.

Oliver stepped further into the room and walked over to where Miguel was standing, looking around with the amazement that was absent on Oliver's face. There was every type of thing you could imagine to keep yourself amused; slot machines, casino tables, pool tables, electronic games of all kinds, music players, every type of game console ever invented, computers, even a strip pole -- which made Oliver raise an eyebrow distastefully.

Off to their right were a number of beydishes. Such a thing had been the reason for bad blood between the two to begin with -- both boys avoided these.

"Hey, how about a game of pool?" Miguel suggested. Oliver smiled.

"Alright. . though, I must warn you, I'm really not that good."

Miguel laughed.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on ya."

Miguel went to set up the pool table and Oliver starred in confusion at the multiple sticks on the wall. They all looked the same to him so he simply picked one at random.

"Uh-uh." Miguel said from beside him, reaching out to gently take the stick from Oliver's hand.

"Trust me, you'll have trouble with that one."

Oliver blinked at Miguel as he looked over the many sticks and sized them up, bewildered as he couldn't see even the slightest difference in a single one. Finally Miguel chose a stick and handed it to Oliver with a smile.

"There ya go. Try that one."

Oliver eyed the stick in confusion, then looked up at Miguel with an odd look and a smile.

"Uh. . . thanks." He said with a laugh.

Miguel laughed and chose a stick for himself, then walked over to the other side of the table to rack up the pool balls.

The game was well under way and Miguel had already sunk four balls while Oliver hadn't sunk a single one. Though he wasn't bothered by the fact at all.

"Miguel?" Oliver asked, watching the blonde line up what looked like a particularly hard shot to Oliver.

"Hm?" Miguel asked absently, taking great care in what he was doing.

Oliver chewed his cheek for a moment, wanting to get the words exactly right without pushing the wrong buttons.

"How. . . how long have you liked Kai? And why do you?"

Miguel took the time to take his shot, line up another and miss what looked like an easy one to Oliver before finally speaking.

"Well. . . I think I first realized I liked him last year, when we met at that pre-battle get-together thing for the first time. Before that it was always just facing him across the beydish, but at that moment, when I actually got to speak to him and hang out for a but. . . I duno, I guess something just. . . clicked. Though, it took me quite some time to actually admit it to myself. Your turn."

Oliver jumped slightly, having been thoroughtly caught up in what Miguel was saying to realize it was his turn.

"As for why-" Miguel paused long enough for Oliver to take his shot, allowing him to concentrate properly -- even though it was useless, because he missed again, before continuing.

"I'm not really sure. I mean, I like that he knows what he wants and he's not afraid of risks, but. . . I never thought I'd ever find myself wanting someone like Kai. But, I guess I was wrong because. . here I am."

Oliver considered all of this and watched as Miguel lined up another shot.

"I see." He said simply, watching Miguel attempt a shot Oliver knew he'd never be able to accomplish with a thousand years of practice. Seeing him pull it off perfectly, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, Oliver smiled brightly.

"You're very good at this, Miguel. If you weren't a professional blader, I'd suggest you try professional pool!"

Miguel laughed lightly.

"Thank you Oliver." He said with a smile. He took another shot, sunk another ball, then missed again what looked like a very easy shot to Oliver. This, the small teen thought, was very odd, but he brushed it aside nonetheless and got ready for his next turn.

"What about you?" Miguel enquired. "Same question."

Oliver frowned as he lined up a straight shot that he figured even he couldn't miss.

"I can't remember when I first realized I loved Enrique." Oliver replied. "Seems like it goes back as far as my memory does."

Oliver's frown deepened as he took his shot and missed horribly.

"As for why. . . that I can't answer either. I like that he's so serious when it comes to beyblading and also that he really is a good friend most of the time, but I hate nearly everything else about him. I hate how he uses and treats girls -- though they're the ones stupid enough to fall for the crap he puts out -- and I hate how he's so cocky!"

Oliver sighed and stepped back from the table.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out." Oliver said with a half-playful, half-weary smile.

Miguel starred at him for a moment, then smiled and walked over to where Oliver was standing.

"Here, try this." He said, gesturing for Oliver to line up a shot. Oliver looked up at him.

"But it's your shot." He reminded the blonde. Miguel laughed.

"I'm sure I'll catch up." He teased playfully. Oliver smiled and turned back to the table.

"OK, try what?"

Miguel leaned down and placed his hands over Oliver's to help him line up the shot.

"Right there. Now, don't be afraid to actually bend a little. You want to be able to see what, and where you shooting."

Oliver tried his best to ignore the hands on his, ones that felt so massive in comparison to his own. Mentally shaking his head, he bent a little like Miguel had said and starred at the pool balls in front of him.

"OK, now what?"

Miguel shifted Oliver's hands on the pool stick and table and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Hold them like that, and relax, don't hold them so hard. When you line up the que, don't just line up the balls, line up your stick with the pocket, the place where you want it to go. Now, try it."

Oliver swallowed hard and took a deep breath, scolding himself as he felt himself go a little giddy upon taking in Miguel's scent. Once again shaking his head, he concentrated on what Miguel had said and lined everything up just right. Holding his breath hopefully, he took the shot, not really intending to sink anything.

Miguel smiled and Oliver's jaw dropped as he watched the blue ball fall into the intended pocket.

"There, ya see. I knew you could do it."

Oliver blinked at the pocket, then suddenly grinned and whirled around, throwing his arms around the blonde behind him.

"Yes! Thank you! That's the first time in my life I've ever sunk anything!!"

Miguel laughed heartily as he wrapped his arms around the green-haired blader and hugged him back.

"And it won't be the last, I promise."

Oliver, suddenly realizing the position in which they were in, felt his face flush horribly and quickly pulled away from the blonde with a cough.

"Um. . right. . well, it's your turn Miguel."

Miguel grinned again and walked around to the side of the table where he lined up a shot Oliver knew for a fact was easy for Miguel, waited for it to fall into the pocket, and blinked in utter confusion when it missed terribly. It was then the green-haired teen realized something very important.

_"He's been missing all those shots on purpose!"_ Oliver thought to himself. _"I knew that seemed suspicious!"_

"You're doing that on purpose!" He accused the blonde, trying his hardest not to laugh and appear stern. "Please don't insult me, monsieur."

Miguel looked up at him, a little surprised, before finally laughing and nodding at Oliver.

"OK. It's your turn though."

Oliver leaned down over the table, lined up his shot, just like Miguel had shown him, and hit the stick. To his delight, the ball he'd intended to sink went into the correct pocket. The second time, he sunk the intended ball again, though not in the pocket he'd intended but the third time he missed.

"You're catching on!" Miguel said with a wide grin. Oliver smiled back, unable to resist feeling greatly proud of himself.

"Now, no more on-purpose misses!" Oliver scolded playfully.

Miguel laughed and looked at the table, Oliver following suit and both knew that the game would be over after this next shot as Miguel had only two balls left to sink and they were both quite easy shots.

As expected, Miguel sunk his two balls and moved to easily sink the black eight. Oliver grinned up at him when he looked up and moved across the table to hold out his hand.

"Good game." He said playfully. Miguel grinned back and gave the extended hand a gentle squeeze.

"Same to you." He replied. "It's nice to play against such a good sportsman."

Oliver looked back at the pool table and laughed before looking back up at Miguel.

"How about another game now?"

Miguel laughed too and nodded.

"Sure. Let's take another look around."

* * *

Oliver grinned triumphantly as he laid down his cards, confident he'd won this time, but Miguel smiled apologetically and laid down a flush.

Oliver starred at the cards across him with a frown. Somehow he'd been talked into a game of strip poker and as of the last round, he was now down to his boxers.

The green-haired duelist sighed as he pulled his shirt over his head. The smile on Miguel's face faded as the pale flesh was revealed.

_"Wow. . ." _The blonde thought, slightly impressed. _"Who knew such a small person could be so well-toned? . . He's . . . actually really attractive."_

Looking the smaller teen over, Miguel brushed his thoughts away and looked up into Oliver's face, noting the nervous fidgeting Oliver was doing.

"How about we do something else?" The blonde suggested kindly, both knowing Oliver would lose this game as well.

The small teen sighed with relief and nodded.

"Yes, please."

"Hmmm . . ." Miguel pondered aloud. "I think I saw a room with a hot tub earlier. Since you're already undressed, why don't we go take a dip?"

Oliver blushed lightly but nodded again.

"Alright, let's go."

So the two left the rec-room, Miguel poking his head into the hall to make sure no one was around, and both hurried down the corridor towards the room Miguel remembered seeing.

Soon enough the two teens reached their destination and entered the room. Oliver couldn't help but stare at the older teen as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a very muscular and toned chest. His eyes unconsciously followed Miguel's pants as they dropped to the floor and his heart threatened to strangle him. If Miguel noticed the flush on Oliver's cheeks when he looked up, he said nothing. Then again, Oliver figured he could always blame it on the heat in the room.

"Shall we?" Miguel said with a playful floursih. Oliver smiled nervously and climbed into the tub after the blonde.

Overhead, soft music played, soothing the bladers very souls. There was a silence between the two, but it was peaceful.

Miguel lifted his arms to rest on the side of the tub and laid his head back as his eyes slid shut. He had nearly drifted off to sleep when Oliver's soft voice brought him back to consciousness and he lifted his head to open his eyes.

"Is it worth it?" Oliver asked softly. "Waiting for Kai I mean. . . ?"

Miguel gave a lop-sided smile as he looked back at Oliver.

"I ask myself the same thing all the time." The blonde answered softly. Oliver was quiet for a while and eventually Miguel spoke again.

"What about you? Do you think it's worth it?"

"I used to think so. . ." Oliver whispered, looking down into the bubbling water. "But after tonight. . . It seems that Enri would rather have anyone but me. . . I think it's time I move on."

"How are you gonna do that?" Miguel asked softly. Oliver laughed and looked up at him.

"I don't know. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

There was another long silence, this time as both bladers were fully consumed in their own thoughts. Eventually however, Miguel thought of something a spoke, pondering a thought aloud as he starred at the ceiling, not really knowing or caring if it was heard of not.

"Maybe. . " He began slowly. "The people we love, and the pain we go through, is really just a test, just a preparation for what's to come; to help us prepare for and really appreciate the person we're really supposed to be with. . ."

Oliver, who had been starring off into his own little world, looked back at Miguel now, thoroughly surprised.

_"Wow. . ."_ He thought in amazement. _"That's deep. . "_

After a few moments of starring at Miguel, Oliver smiled slightly.

"Yea. . " He replied, his voice almost a whisper. ". . yea, maybe."

Miguel said nothing else, but his head lolled to the side as he looked at Oliver again, a warm expression on his face before finally smiling at the green-haired teen.

-----

After quite some time, the two teens finally looked at their hands, noted the common prune-like affect the water was beginning to have on them and their lobster-red skin and decided it was finally time to get out.

The two got out and dryed off with two huge, fluffy towels, ringing out their boxers and letting them dry a bit in the hot air before finally getting dressed again and leaving the room.

"So, now what?" Miguel asked thoughtfully as they absently walked down the hall.

Oliver yawned wide, then gave Miguel a sheepish glance when he looked up at him.

"Well . . I'm actually a little tired now. I think I'll just go to bed."

Miguel nodded.

"Yea, I think I'll go to bed too."

"Where's your room?" Oliver enquired as they headed to Oliver's.

"I have a hotel a few blocks down with my team." Miguel informed politely.

"Ah, I see."

The two stopped at a handsome oak door and Oliver opened it to peer inside. Stepping back out again, he looked at Miguel and sighed.

"I'm supposed to be sharing a room with Enrique." He said with a small frown. "But, of course. . . I don't quite expect him tonight."

Peering back into the room again, Oliver's frown deepened.

"I'm also . . . a little intimidated by this house. It's much different then mine back home; the room is so much colder and . . . impersonal."

Looking back at Miguel, Oliver unconsciously gave him a slightly pleading look.

"I wonder. . . would you mind staying with me?" He asked hopefully. "Just until I fall asleep of course!" He added hurriedly.

Miguel blinked at the small teen for a moment, then laughed lightly and gave him a warm smile.

"Of course. I don't mind."

Oliver sighed gratefully.

"Merci, beaucoup!" He replied.

Miguel nodded and followed Oliver into the room and went to look out the window as Oliver went about his nightly routine. He was still standing there when the small teen emerged from the bathroom some time later wearing a pair of silky red pajama bottoms and a blue t-shirt. Miguel turned and smiled at him and Oliver smiled back as he climbed into bed and slipped under the covers.

"How about some TV?" Oliver asked.

Miguel nodded and Oliver reached for the TV remote, flicked it on and patted the bed beside him. Miguel walked over to the bed, took off his shoes and laid down on the bed atop the covers.

Oliver turned the remote control to the television and flipped through the channels until he came across something he knew and liked.

"Ooo! I know Christmas specials are so cheesy, but I'm sorry, I like this one."

Miguel laughed and shook his head.

"I don't care, watch what you want."

Oliver smiled at him gratefully and settled down to watch the movie.

Amethyst eyes watched the movie happily as the scenes played out before him, it was one of his favorite movies from his childhood and he knew nearly every line. However, it was one such line that made Oliver's smile drop abruptly when the movie neared it's end.

"I love you too Sarah! You're all I ever wanted for Christmas and I don't regret a single moment I ever spent waiting for you! Merry Christmas!"

Oliver's eyes instantly blurred with tears as the two characters on the screen starred at each other lovingly. Without thinking, he grabbed the remote control and switched off the TV, just as the coupple leaned in to kiss under the mistletoe.

"I'm tired." He forced himself to say calmly. "I think I'm going to try and sleep now."

Without another word, Oliver quickly scooted down and rolled over, pulling the blankets up around him and crying softly.

_"Oh Enrique. . ." _He thought despairingly. _"You're all I ever wanted for Christmas too, but I always regret the time I waste waiting for you. . . how many Christmas's will I have to waste alone. . ?"_

A gentle hand on Oliver's arm snapped him back to his 'here and now', and he subtly sniffled as Miguel spoke.

"Oliver. . " He almost whispered. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. . " Oliver tried to reply calmly, but he was well-aware of the thickness of his voice as he spoke.

Much to Oliver's displeasure, Miguel gently took hold of his shoulder and rolled him over to face the blonde.

Miguel's face softened and he felt his heart wrench as he starred down at the tears streaming down Oliver's face. Without thinking, his thumbs reached up to gently wipe away the tears, lingering on the pale face and softly caressing it as the deep-purple eyes continued to stream.

"Oliver, what's wrong?"

Unable to lie to the entrancing blue orbs, or to look away from them, Oliver sobbed out the truth.

"I. . I thought of Enrique. . ." He sobbed painfully. "That stupid movie. . . I've been waiting for Enrique for so many Christmas's and I've finally realized. . . I'll be waiting forever for him because I know I'm wasting my time, and I want to forget about him but. . . ."

Miguel felt his heart break as Oliver sobbed again, and bit his lip in an effort to stop what he knew he couldn't.

"Oh Oliver. . ." Miguel said painfully, his heart wrenching with every tear and sob. Finally Oliver spoke again, not looking up at Miguel this time.

"Will you . . . will you stay with me? Please."

Miguel couldn't refuse that face or plea even if he wanted -- which he absolutely did not. Pulling away from Oliver only long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it onto the floor, he quickly slipped under the blankets with the small teen and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight to his chest and resting his head atop the bright green locks.

Oliver sniffled and placed his hands on Miguel's chest, nuzzling into the toned body as he continued to sob softly.

Miguel gently stoked Oliver's soft, silky locks as he held him tightly while he cried, his heart breaking for the small teen.

Finally, after some time, feeling very foolish, Oliver pulled away from Miguel just enough to look up into his face.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice slightly hoarse. "I'm. . . so sorry for this, I'm not usually this emotional, I swear. ."

Miguel smiled down at him, relieved he'd stopped crying, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the pale forehead.

"It's alright." He said softly. "I'm just glad you're OK now."

Oliver closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. He felt better doing this and so he did it again, and again, and again, until something oddly familiar seemed to enter his peace.

_"What is that?"_ He thought, inhaling deeply then. Finally he realized what he was sensing and felt himself flush hotly.

_"I'm. . . smelling Miguel's cologne. . . "_ He thought in embarrassment. _"Why is that soothing me??. . . I must have drank too much. . . though, I'm sure I only had a few. . ."_

"Oliver, what's wrong now?"

Oliver opened his eyes again and looked up to see Miguel looking down at him in concern, no doubt having felt him tense.

"I-. . . I think I drank too much." Oliver said simply. Miguel gave him an odd look.

"Why? Do you feel sick?"

Oliver flushed again.

"No. . . I just. . I'm thinking things. . . I know I shouldn't."

Miguel starred down at Oliver for a few moments, waiting for him to continue. When it seemed he wouldn't he raised an eyebrow.

"Like. . ?" He prodded gently. Oliver bit his lip, but after a few moments he spoke again.

"You remember that comment you made in the tub earlier?"

"Yes." Miguel replied. "What about it?"

"Nothing." Oliver replied. "I was just thinking about it. . ."

Now Miguel looked thoroughly confused. Oliver starred at Miguel's chest, afraid to look up into the blue eyes above him again in fear Miguel would see the truth.

After a long silence, Oliver felt a thumb and forefinger on his chin and was forced to look up into the face he feared yet . . . yearned, to see.

"Oliver. . ." Miguel began, making Oliver's heart flutter.

_"Say it again. . " _Oliver thought giddily. _"I love how he says my name. . ."_

Mentally shaking his head from his last ridiculous thought, Oliver forced himself to focus on what Miguel was saying.

"Are you interested in me?"

Oliver's eyes widened and he felt his face heat up worse then ever.

"Um. . ." He replied in embarrassment. "I'm. . . not really sure. . . " He replied honestly, because at that moment, he was very confused.

Without another word, Miguel dipped his face down and pressed his lips to Oliver's, causing the small teen to freeze in shock and his heart to stand still.

When Miguel pulled away all too soon, Oliver blinked up at him through his flush.

"I'm definitely interested if there's more of that." He teased sheepishly. Miguel laughed.

"You never know," The blonde teased. "it's Christmas."

Growing serious again, Miguel reached a hand up and placed it on Oliver's face, gently caressing it and causing the deep, amethyst eyes to slide shut as Oliver enjoyed the sweet, sensual touch.

"I really enjoyed getting to know you tonight, Oliver. . " Miguel whispered truthfully. "And I'd like to continue to do so, even if we're just going to be friends."

"I'd really like that, Miguel." Oliver whispered back, his eyes still closed. "I enjoyed spending time with you too. . ."

A small, cheeky smile spread across Oliver's lips then but the eyes remained closed.

"I'd kinda like another chance at that kiss though." He said playfully. "The last one kinda caught me by surprise and I didn't really get a chance to enjoy it."

Miguel's hand paused as he laughed heartily.

"That's up to you, Oliver, but just don't wake up tomorrow and hold it against me or complain that I took advantage of you!"

Oliver's eyes finally opened and he laughed as well.

"We're drinking." He teased. "And it's Christmas; we're supposed to make bad choices."

Miguel's laughter faded to a small smile as he starred down at Oliver with an affectionate look.

"Well, I hope I don't end up being just a bad choice."

Oliver's grin faded to a warm smile as well and his hands reached up to cup Miguel's face, gently caressing it the way Miguel had with him.

"I somehow doubt that. . ." He replied softly.

His smile widening slightly, Miguel obliged Oliver as the small teen encouraged him downwards for a real, Christmas kiss.


End file.
